


Love and Other Risks

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BAMF Mycroft Holmes, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Injured Greg Lestrade, Kidnapping, M/M, Protective Mycroft Holmes, Sherlock is a good brother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:02:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27061636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: When Greg is kidnapped, Mycroft is not happy.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 8
Kudos: 198





	Love and Other Risks

Mycroft had a headache brewing just behind his eyes. It had been a long day and he was looking forward to getting home and unwinding. Greg should be coming over for dinner as well, which always seemed to make the day better.

He wasn't quite sure if they were officially dating yet. He supposed so, though with their schedules, Greg's recent divorce and Mycroft's secrecy sometimes it seemed like they were dancing around the edges of something much deeper, both of them afraid to take the next step.

Mycroft rubbed his temples and picked up his coat, thinking he might stop off for a bottle of wine. He was halfway out of the building when his phone vibrated with a message. Thinking it must be from Greg, he opened it without double-checking.

There was a video. Frowning, Mycroft tapped it. The dark image turned bright. He could see Greg, and then heard a grunt of pain as someone hit him. His heart leaped to his throat as the video ended.

Turning on his heel, Mycroft walked back into his office, sending a message to Anthea and sitting back down at his desk.

By the time Anthea stepped in he'd traced the text message. "What happened to his security?" he asked.

"They were too far away. And he was grabbed in a location away from the cameras. He was investigating a case on the waterfront."

Mycroft knew there was a reason Greg didn't want obvious security around him while he worked, but he still cursed the precious lost time.

"I've got the address where the video was sent from, but I'm certain that's not where he's at."

"No," agreed Anthea, fingers flying over her keyboard.

They lapsed into momentary silence as they worked. Mycroft's phone vibrated again and they stopped in unison to look at it.

Steeling himself, Mycroft opened the picture. One of Greg's eyes was swollen shut, the other one glared defiantly at the camera. Mycroft ignored the wave of worry and anger and quickly scanned the background for any clues.

"It seems to be the Jones gang," said Anthea, showing him her mobile.

Mycroft nodded. They'd been trying to get his attention. Well, now they had it. In the worst way.

Getting to his feet, Mycroft opened a panel in the wall and pulled out guns for himself and Anthea. "You have the location?" he asked.

"I do now, yes," she said, taking her weapon. 

"Let's go."

**

Mycroft breathed slowly as they drove across London. They clearly wanted to make a statement in taking Greg alive. Which was just as well for them; if they'd murdered him Mycroft wouldn't have hesitated to rain down hell with every option he had. 

As it was, Mycroft was fully prepared to shoot anyone who got in his way.

The small strike force was waiting for them as they arrived. Mycroft gave orders and then nodded, letting them go first, even if his instincts were telling him to go kick in the door himself.

He didn't wait very long to follow them, though, hearing shouting and shooting as the soldiers quickly moved through the building. Mycroft went down the stairs and into the basement, pushing open a door.

"Not another step," said a man, standing behind a seated Greg with a gun to his head.

"You've got my attention, Mister Jones. I highly doubt you'll leave this place alive."

He gave Mycroft a thin smile. "While you're busy with this, other things are happening. Put down your gun."

Greg looked at Mycroft, then suddenly threw himself to the side. Mycroft fired, hitting Jones in the side. He rushed forward and kicked his gun away as he fell, then pulled a knife out of his pocket to cut Greg's hands free.

"Knew you'd show up sooner rather than later," said Greg, breathing heavily.

Jones was trying to reach for the gun. Mycroft quickly stepped on his hand. He grunted in pain. "I'm quite tempted to leave you here to bleed out," admitted Mycroft. "But I won't."

Anthea appeared a moment later with several medics. Two of them moved to tend to Greg, while another one came to Jones.

Mycroft pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and picked up Jones's gun, handing it to Anthea. Greg was already being taken out.

"Go on to the hospital, sir. I'll take care of things here," said Anthea.

"Thank you," said Mycroft.

**

Mycroft was pacing in the waiting room when Sherlock showed up, John in tow. John quickly made himself scarce, leaving the two brothers alone.

Sherlock glanced at Mycroft, then gently took his arm and steered him to a seat. Mycroft blinked a few times, but took a few deep breaths as Sherlock sat down next to him.

John returned a few minutes later with three cups of tea, handing one each to Mycroft and Sherlock before sitting down himself.

The doctor came out a short time later and gestured to Mycroft. Taking a breath, Mycroft followed her into the hall. "He wants to see you," she said. "He'll recover."

"Thank you," said Mycroft, following her into the room.

Greg was battered and bruised, his eye still swollen shut. He gave Mycroft a slightly loopy smile, clearly on some good pain medication. "Hey sweetheart," he said, reaching for Mycroft's hand.

Blushing slightly, well aware the doctor was still in the room, Mycroft stepped forward and took it, leaning down to kiss his knuckles. "I'm sorry," he said, aware of the tremble in his voice.

"Not the first beating I've taken," said Greg. "Should have seen me in my uni days."

"Still, I should have done more to protect you," said Mycroft.

"Ya can't wrap me in bubble rap. I'm gonna go sleep in a minute, but I want you to know I love you."

Mycroft felt his heart ache. "I love you, too," he said quietly, reaching out with his free hand to brush Greg's hair back.

Greg closed his eyes and quickly passed out. Mycroft looked over at the doctor, who was studiously looking at her notes. "I take it he'll be here overnight?"

"At least," she said. "We're still trying to determine all his internal injuries."

"Please keep me informed. I have to tend to some things, but I'll have my mobile."

"We will."

**

Mycroft didn't get home again for four more days, catching naps where he could as they chased down the dastardly plot. They might have sought to distract him, but Mycroft had long experience in keeping focus on what he needed to, no matter what else might be going on.

Finally, though, Anthea had him dropped off at home while she wrapped up a few last things. Mycroft slowly climbed the stairs. He hadn't heard anything else from the hospital, so he had to assume Greg was on the mend and he'd be in contact as soon as he could.

What he did not expect was to open his bedroom door and find Greg sleeping in the middle of it, arms wrapped around Mycroft's pillow. Mycroft's heart ached as he saw the bruises where Greg's shirt had ridden up, his face at least looking a little better than it had that first night.

Moving quietly, Mycroft crossed to the en suite and slipped inside, closing the door behind him. He turned on the water and undressed, leaving his clothes on the floor. The spray was warm and he closed his eyes as it worked on his tired muscles.

"Hey love," said Greg quietly, startling Mycroft.

Mycroft turned and looked at him. "You're here," he said.

"Yeah." Greg stepped back and leaned against the counter. "Anthea figured you'd feel safer with me here."

"I should be more worried about you feeling safe," said Mycroft, reaching for his body wash.

"I knew you'd come get me," said Greg. "I've only been here a few hours. Fell asleep, pain meds and all that."

"I'm sorry," said Mycroft, honestly. "The last thing in the world I want is for you to be hurt because of me."

"But I always knew it was a possibility. And I don't mind." Greg watched him wash himself. "And don't you go pulling away in some misguided attempt at keeping me safe. I can handle myself."

Mycroft turned away and closed his eyes to rinse off, suddenly feeling exhausted. "And what if next time they kill you?"

"Then I fully expect you to go on a murderous rampage to avenge me," said Greg, tone light, but Mycroft heard the meaning behind it. "It's a chance I'm willing to take, Mycroft."

Mycroft shut off the water and stepped out of the shower. Greg wrapped him in a towel. "Come on, I know you haven't slept the last few days, we can have this conversation when we're both more awake."

"Alright," said Mycroft softly, letting himself be led back into the bedroom.

**

Mycroft woke in the early morning from bad dreams. He sat up and ran a hand through his hair, still tired, but knowing he wouldn't be able to fall back asleep again.

Greg opened one eye. "Alright?" he asked, sounding tired.

Mycroft leaned down and kissed his cheek. "I'll be fine. Go back to sleep."

Greg grumbled something, but closed his eyes again. Mycroft got out of bed and threw on a robe, going down to his office.

He opened up his computer and pulled up some other work, losing himself in the rhythms of his job.

A little while later Greg appeared with tea and a biscuit. Mycroft sat back and rubbed his eyes before reaching for it. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Did you take care of the bastard?"

"Very much so," said Mycroft, voice hard as flint.

Greg smiled. "Good. They knew what they were doing, grabbed me away from the cameras. But I knew you'd come find me sooner rather than later. Like I said, Mycroft, I don't care about the danger, I love you."

"And I love you," said Mycroft, leaning in to kiss him gently. "When I saw them hurting you..."

"Oh yeah, I told him he was gonna regret that. Is he recovering?"

"He is. I did resist the urge to shoot him in the head."

"Because, Mycroft Holmes, despite all your protestations, you are a good man."

"So you insist on telling me." Mycroft closed his computer and got to his feet. "What do you say we spend the day on the sofa watching telly?"

"Sounds like an excellent idea to me." Greg leaned in and kissed him again. "I would face any danger if it meant being by your side. I knew it was risky before I started dating you. Nothing has changed."

"I suppose that means we are officially dating then, doesn't it?" said Mycroft, following down the stairs.

"I'd say so," chuckled Greg. "Come on, I"ll even let you pick the first program."

"You truly are a paragon of generosity," said Mycroft, sitting next to him and reaching for the remote. Greg leaned against his chest. There were still more demons to face, but for now, this was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Much thanks to Beltainefaerie for the read over. Inspired by the [Riviera](https://twitter.com/nowtv/status/1316695312589901826?s=21) trailer.


End file.
